


Wedding Boogies

by littlemissvincentvega



Series: Reservoir Thots [16]
Category: Reservoir Dogs (1992)
Genre: Cutesy, Drunk Dancing, F/M, Fluff and Humor, Romantic Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-05-29
Packaged: 2020-03-27 14:46:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19015057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlemissvincentvega/pseuds/littlemissvincentvega
Summary: two mini fics from prompts from a list i reblogged on tumblr (originally by @hellsdemonictrinity) that anon asked me to do for mr. white! :)





	Wedding Boogies

**46:**

**“Dance with me.”  
**

You look at Larry, the corners of your mouth turning up a little. “What?”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he urges with a smile, holding out his hand. “Dance with me!”

Your friend had gotten married today, and it didn’t take much persuading to get your older boyfriend to join you. You’re sitting at one of the tables with a glass of red wine while the DJ plays cheesy 80s music. “Larry, not here--” you begin, but he pulls you up, a playful grin on his face. He had drank quite a bit tonight and, judging by the childish delight in his eyes, the alcohol had hit him a while ago.

Giggling, he drags you to the dance floor, twirling you around, your black dress swishing about. “What if I fall over?!” you ask him, frightened because of your heels.

He pulls you in by your waist, you gripping the lapels of his familiar black suit. “I’ll catch ya, sweetie.” After gazing into your eyes for a moment, Larry giggles again and dances with you, holding your dainty hands in his. “Did I ever tell you how fuckin’ pretty you are?” he asks, panting a little.

“Most days, babe... Christ, don’t dance so hard, you’ll pass out,” you giggle.

“I gotta call Ed, tell ‘im how cool he is--”

You grab him before he can go find his cellphone (which he hadn’t even brought, by the way) and embarrass himself even further. “C’mon, let’s just have a lil boogie,” you smile, pulling him in for a quick kiss. “Let me take off my heels so I can dance with you better.” He waits for you while you go leave them beside your table, and  _‘Everybody Wants To Rule The World’_  starts playing as you return. Again, Larry pulls you back into his arms, dancing like an idiot (but very confidently) with a grin on his face. 

When the song ends, the DJ decides there’s been enough 80s for a while and puts on a slow number. Larry’s eyes are full of unadulterated giddiness and love. He places his hands on your waist, the two of you gently swaying. Smiling, you rest your head on his chest, your hands clutching his shoulders. “Are you glad you came, then?” you ask in a whisper, kissing his neck softly.

“Honey, that’s inappropriate,” he says, deadly serious-- well, deadly serious for about two seconds before wheezing at himself, bending forward and slapping his knee. You stand there, arms folded, a look of amused embarrassment on your face. After he’s done laughing, he cups both of your cheeks, looking into your eyes, blind drunk. “I got a secret...”

“Go on...?”

“I’m so so so so  _so_ in love with you.”

 

**87:**

**“You’re so adorable.”  
**

“Mm?” you mumble, your focus on perfecting your eyeliner.

“You,” says Larry, kneeling beside you and gazing at you in the mirror. “You’re adorable.”

“Aw, shush,” you giggle, your cheeks turning pink. 

“I don’t get how ya do that so well,” he huffs. “Makeup’s a fuckin’ skill as far as I’m concerned, hats off to ya, sweetheart.”

“Thank you, babe.”

He leans in and kisses your cheek. “Hey, can I do your lipstick?”

You raise an eyebrow, a smile creeping on your face. “Why?”

“I just wanna try, looks like fun.”

“Fine, wait till I’ve done this then,” you giggle, leaning forward to finish off your eye makeup. Grinning, Larry gets up and goes off to the kitchen to make you both some coffee. It’s date night, something he makes sure you have at least once a week, and you’re just getting ready a little early. Just as you finish putting on a pair of fake lashes, he returns with two mugs of lovely coffee (the gourmet shit) and sets them down on a couple of coasters on your dressing table. “Thanks,” you smile. He’s done them in your favourite mugs-- last year, Larry had taken you to Disneyland and you had bought a Mickey & Minnie mug set. It always warms your heart when drinking out of them.

“S’okay, sugarplum. Can I do your lipstick now?” he asks excitedly.

“Yeah, pick one out then,” you nod, taking a sip of your coffee. You watch him with a smile as he fumbles through your lipstick bag (he had to buy you a separate makeup bag for your lipsticks a while back, you own that many) and, after about five minutes of searching, he pulls out a beautiful burgundy one.

“You like it?”

“You got me that one, I love it.”

“Okay, how do I, uh-- hold still,” he mumbles, his tongue poking out in concentration as he cups your cheek with one hand and presses the lipstick to your lips with the other. “Am I doin’ it right, sweetness?”

“Well, is there colour on my lips?”

“Kind of... I’m afraid’a goin’ out the lines,” Larry chuckles, going over your lips with it, a little more confident with each stroke of colour. A minute later and he sits back to admire his artwork.

“How do I look?” you ask, pulling him in for a kiss, your lipstick imprinting on him. He kisses you affectionately, gently stroking your cheek, and pulls away to admire you.

“Absolutely gorgeous, sweetie.”


End file.
